Page 15 of The Fight

I salute him, then turn on my heel. Yeah, so much for relaxing is right.

Pushing through the crowd, I down the rest of my beer and make my way toward where Blair is still dancing on the table. As I get closer, I can hear her better. She’s singing along to the music, her words bleeding into the beat, and she’s laughing like it’s the best night of her life. The closer I get, the more anger starts to settle into my gut, peaking my frustration all over again.

“Blair!” I shout, trying to get her attention over the noise. She doesn’t hear me, or maybe she’s just ignoring me, so I push closer, finally reaching the edge of the table. “Blair, get down from there!”

She looks down at me, a drunken grin spreading across her face. “Shay!” she shouts back, her voice filled with reckless joy. “Go fuck yourself!”

“You need to get down.” My tone is harder. “You’re making a fool of yourself.”

Her grin falters, and for a second, I see a flash of hurt in her eyes. But then she’s laughing again, throwing her head back. “Why do you care? You hate me, remember?” she slurs.

My patience was already thin, but it’s getting even thinner. “Blair, now. You’re drunk. Let’s go.”

She crosses her arms, pouting like a stubborn child. “No. I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Fine.” I shrug, then reach up.

Before she can react, I grab her by the waist and lift her off the table. Her skin is warm under my hands, and it has me pausing for half a second. I try to ignore the heat and the want suddenly swirling deep in me and throw her over my shoulder. Fucking Austin. This is his fault. He always has a way of getting in my head and making me think about shit I shouldn’t.

Like how good her body feels on mine right now…

She squeals and kicks her legs, then pounds her small fists into my back. “Put me down, you fucking caveman!”

“Not until we’re off this beach.”

I start walking, her weight shifting with each step, but I don’t slow down. Her hands aren’t even fists anymore, but the hitting doesn’t stop. Her open palms slap me, batting at my back and ass, and her words are a mixture of insults and protests, but I keep going, determined to get her away from here.

When we reach the edge of the beach, I set her down and keep a firm lock on her wrist to make sure she doesn’t run and to help steady her so she isn’t face-planting into the concrete.

She stumbles slightly and glares at me with anger and a little embarrassment. “What the hell is your problem?”

I roll my eyes and drag her to the passenger side of my Jeep. “You. You’re my fucking problem.”

I hit my fob, unlocking the door, then stuff her inside before heading to the driver’s side. As soon as I climb in, she starts ranting again.

“You act like I asked for this. If I’m such a problem, then leave me alone. Let me live my life as far away from you as I possibly can.”

I shove my keys into the ignition and start the car, then peel out, heading back home. “Yeah, because that’s totally possible living under the same roof.”

She kicks her sandy feet onto my dash, shoes and all. “Whatever. You can act like the reason you’re mad is because our parents are getting married and you feel your mom is being replaced or whatever, but I know the truth.”

“The truth?” I laugh sarcastically. She doesn’t know shit about me or what I feel.

She nods dramatically. “You’re just mad I wouldn’t fuck you. Sucks to suck, Shay, but not every girl wants you in their pants. Honestly, I’m glad it didn’t go further because now I realize what a dick you really are.”

“Me, mad I didn’t get in your pants? Please. I can have any girl I want. Including you.”

She clicks her tongue. “That’s where you’re wrong. I’ve held out for eighteen years already. Think I’m going to fuck that up for someone like you? I can’t even believe I kissed you.”

“Seemed to me you really enjoyed it when it was happening. You can keep lying to yourself, but you can’t lie to me.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Maybe it was a little enjoyable, but you showed your true colors, and they’re fucking uglyyyyyyy.” She draws out the last word.

“You don’t know shit about me, Blair.”

“Yeah? Well, you don’t know shit about me either.”

“I know enough to know I don’t like you.”

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